I Love Lillet

I thought I was alone in my passion for this delicious but obscure French apéritif until I discovered that today is National Lillet Day.  I know, who knew? 

I first tasted Lillet about 10 years ago when I was living in Paris.  A French friend introduced me to it with the caveat, “my parents like this”, which I think was code for, “this may taste good, but is deeply uncool and to be savoured in private only”.  Now I know there are other like-minded folk out there – we have our own day, after all – maybe this is the time to break cover and finally tell people how great this stuff is. 

Lillet has a secret recipe but is essentially a blend of Bordeaux wines (Sauvignon Blanc, Sémillon and Muscadelle for Lillet Blanc and Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot for Lillet Rouge) and citrus liqueurs with, I gather, some Cinchona bark liqueur for good measure.  It tastes of candied orange, lime, honey and mint and a little bit resinous.  It does have a touch of sweetness, but if you serve it chilled the herbal notes make it a really refreshing pre-dinner drink.

It’s typically used as a cocktail ingredient and Lillet’s best claim to fame is that James Bond specified it as a key ingredient of a Vesper in Casino Royale:  “Three measures of Gordon’s, one of vodka, half a measure of Kina Lillet.  Shake it very well until it’s ice cold then add a large slice of lemon peel.  Got it?”  With all due respect to James, I prefer mine neat with ice and a slice.  I like to keep a bottle on the go in the fridge in case I fancy a small glass of something but don’t want to open a bottle of wine – it seems to last for a while quite happily.  I also prefer Lillet Blanc over Lillet Rouge which is slightly more bitter.  There is a new rosé version, but I confess I haven’t tried it yet myself.

You can pick Lillet up in Selfridges or Harvey Nichols and online (probably more cheaply).  Maybe best to try it out in a bar first to see if you fancy joining me and my new band of Lillet-loving friends.

 Lillet

How can I make myself like Sauvignon Blanc?

I know it’s a bit of a heresy, but I’m really not a fan of Sauvignon Blanc.  It’s the über-aromatic, grassy profile you often find with it and those precocious, New World versions that shout up at you from the glass.  How can a grape with such a big personality be so universally popular?  I just don’t see it.  There is the odd occasion when I do enjoy a glass, but for me there are a few pre-requisites:

  1. Restraint: I like a bit of varietal character, but I don’t want to eat tomato leaves and I don’t want to drink something that tastes of them either.  There are some exceptions – Sauvignons from the Saint Clair Estate in Marlborough NZ, for example – but there are far too many over-extracted Kiwi offenders on the supermarket shelves.
  2. Minerality: think of an elegant, stony Sancerre or smoky Pouilly Fumé, something to add an extra dimension.  Now we’re getting somewhere.
  3. More elderflower aromas and ripe fruit flavours, fewer green pepper and asparagus notes (see 1. above, I don’t really want to drink my greens).
  4. A partner in crime: how about blending with another variety just to lend a little balance?
  5. A touch of oak perhaps: this is, I confess, a weakness of mine.  I have a high tolerance for oaky flavours so, as this is my wish list, I’m going to throw that in too.

Bearing all this in mind, if I had to drink a Sauvignon-based wine and money were no object, I would probably plump for a white from Pessac Léognan.  This appellation is found to the west and south of the city of Bordeaux, not too far from the Atlantic coast.  It’s warmer than the Loire resulting in some riper fruit flavours.  The nearby ocean means vintages can be variable, so the whites are typically a blend of Sauvignon Blanc (around 60%) and Sémillon which gives the winemaker options in years where the weather has suited one variety more than another.  The Sémillon also provides body and a waxy softness which act as a foil to the Sauvignon Blanc freshness.  The wines typically spend 6-12 months maturing in oak barrels, with a varying percentage of new oak.  Stirring of the lees (the dead yeast cells from fermentation) is also used to add creaminess to the wine.

The result is wines that have more weight, so are good partners for food.  On the palate you can get some real complexity, aromatics from the Sauvignon: elderflower, white peach, salad leaves and tarragon; honeyed notes from the Sémillon; and hints of sweet spice from the oak.  The acidity from the Sauvignon and the capacity of Sémillon to develop in bottle means these wines can also age well and still provide pleasure after a good 10 years.

The catch is, coming from Bordeaux, these wines are not cheap and you are unlikely to get much change from £20, if any.  I went to a tasting of classy wines from Pessac Léognan last week and my favourite at the tasting, the 2012 Château de Fieuzal didn’t even list the RRP – if you have to ask, you can’t afford it (although I believe it’s certainly over £30 a bottle).  The Winery in Maida Vale currently has a lovely Domaine de Grandmaison 2011 for £17.99 – worth a try if you fancy splurging on something different…

Grandmaison